I've resumed my efforts to build the Tyatoran language again. Oh help me. Why on earth (or why out of this earth) must I be so hypnotically drawn to Tyatora? Grrr...I can feel it beckoning me.
This language is different from Firk-Nott. That is the tongue of a specific race in Tyatora. The new language I'm trying to develop is the national language of the country.
The language is probably gonna consist of a lot of A's, O's, and E's, but very few I's. The idea is to restrict its variety to improve the character of the language.
I have no idea of the consonants yet.
Nothing but a foggy idea of grammar so far, so please don't ask much aobut it. I'm planning to make it a bit more straightforward than English. No past tenses, just run, run, or run.
No lie, lay, lain. Just "lay, lay, and lay."
But I could try making a bunch of gibberish now and see if my concepts work out:
Huonankalh! Lue-faloyn nol dansaruun en landelyn Narhu. Liem, landelyn diechlor vra, wue talmer mey'seren. Aun Huakh Beleyk-nan, bosrein! Oiy'e, sea matolh bosrein harek nakh huil. Desnan key mer' o waldvarey nuonan, kethan donorh landeleyn varthi'e!
OR
Look! Fallen are the leaves of the Narhu tree. Yes, the tree is dying indeed, and the fruit is not big. But remember my contempt, Enemy! Oh, sharp axe of my foes hack to no avail. This bark of mine is strong, while the will of this tree endures as life.
What do you think? Did my paragraph sound like any other language you'veh heard? Still trying to pinpoint some aspects of it. . . :)
Showing posts with label Tyatora. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tyatora. Show all posts
Bidal-Karon: Part II
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Now the six daughters came to the private hall of their house, as they were bidden, and Licoann came also. When they had gathered, Tiendar and Venyai described and read out the proposals. The eldest of Dyavan’s sons was to marry the eldest of Tiendar’s daughters, second eldest with second eldest, and so on. They spoke quietly among each other for a while, exchanging thoughts and impressions of the suggested arrangements, and the suitors. At this (for little could be made of their true intentions and the color of their hearts), Licoann told of the glances and furtive peeks during the feasts last summer.
At this Neler, the eldest daughter shook her head, but did not speak until she had thought a little more. “I know not what to say of this, for though truly they ask for our hands in marriage, who but Amentoris can judge their spirits and deepest thoughts? Nevertheless, we must discern what we may. What say you, Father, Mother?”
Tiendar and Venyai heard this, and remained silent for a while. Venyai ancient gray hair gleamed briefly like silver, as did Tiendar’s beard, but then it stopped. They turned up to their children, and smiled somberly. “Perhaps, it would be wise to bid the sons of Dyavan to come again to our house, so our children may speak with them, as is the ancient custom. However, we must be wary, and keep our eyes and ears and minds open and alert. Then we shall make our choice.”
And so it was. The messengers were sent back to Dyavan’s household, at which, when Dyavan heard the reply, brought his sons together and was furious, for he hadn’t until then realized what his sons had done. “What is the meaning of this? Your iniquity is testament to the training of your mother and scorning of your father!”
Alas, the father sent his sons away to Tiendar’s house, though without his blessing, and sent them with many gifts and golden-made objects to the house of Tiendar (to make all appearance all was well in the Court of Dyavan). The six sons left immediately, and sojourned for two weeks and two days. They were welcomed into the house, though not as warmly as when Dyavan had first come, for the daughters were careful and wary.
For the first and second days, the brothers remained ever courteous, constantly being good in seemingly all ways. But during the third day, Thelin the Eldest son requested that he and his brothers could speak with the Sisters. The message was sent to Tiendar (who was elsewhere in his realm). To this, Tiendar accepted, though he insisted that he and Licoann be there at each meeting, for Tiendar had desired to be careful with this potential arrangement.
Thelin and the Brothers consented, and so Thelin, the eldest, met with Neler the Eldest, as was the custom. Tiendar and Licoann sat between the two, but watched closely. They met by the lakeside, and spoke. Neler asked of Thelin many questions, of interests, of wisdom, of passions, and of morality. What she found in the Thelin the Fay was warlike of heart, strong in will, brave, but lacked the control to hold his own might. Yet, though she was not pleased, she spoke a little more before until sunset arrived, and they group left for the evening meal.
The next day, the second eldest, Baranin, and the second eldest, Feian met. They spoke, and Feian found the same in his heart.
Then Borthonin met with Thiendori, then Carin with Pienhor, then Thruilin and Lerya, and then finally Thruanin with Treyal. After this, the family of Tiendar took counsel once more, and they spoke as one. They all found, though, that the Sons of Dyavan were as Neler had perceived; willful, uncontrolled, fearless, yet not disciplined in righteousness or the way of right. Their father had seen this, but had perceived also a kind of darkness over his heart whenever he saw the swords at the Brothers’ waists. This he spoke of none to, except Venyai (many a season later). This was one of the least wise of the acts of Tiendar, though he was discerning and upright throughout his immortal days on Endramius. Perhaps had he brought his troubled thoughts to Amentoris the Wise, the course of events may have differed, but he did not, and he regretted his silence.
But for the time, Tiendar spoke carefully, and he and his family declined the brothers’ proposals. But though they refused, they still invited the Sons of Dyavan to a great feast at Tiendar’s table. A messenger was sent, and Thelin received the news in his apartments (for all guests of Tiendar and Venyai were given large staying quarters). Thelin read this, and was infuriated, and he flew into a terrible rage, for ever had his desire been growing, and his initial disappointment turned itself into the black form of hate. He then read the message to his brothers, and they too became angry. Now in his rage, Thelin devised a second wicked scheme, now for the purpose of obtaining vengeance. He suggested this, “My brothers, we have been scornfully rejected by the great house of Tiendar the Steward. He and his household have believed that their place shall be happier without our presence here. We must deprive them of happiness forever! We, of the Greater Fays, sons of Dyavan the Mighty, shall, by this time in three days, slay the six daughters of Tiendar!”
It was done. They declined the feast, and pretended to need to be on their way home, on the pretense their father was expecting them. They then left, cordially making their farewells and blessings upon the household of Tiendar. But they only had left the borders of Tiendar’s realm before they stopped, and camped there. Every day they would move silently towards the Dinkaron Lake, and waited for the six daughters to pass by. The first and second day yielded nothing. But on the third day, Thelin (who had been scouting, sighted the six daughters with Licoann their brother, and he quickly returned to his camp to alert his brothers. They were ready, and ever so silently they crept back into Tiendar’s realm.
They sighted the Stewards again, and stalked them silently. Alas, when they had stopped by the lakeside for a drink, the six brothers sprang their trap, and rushed out of the woods. Licoann drew his sword the instant he saw them, and he call his sisters to go behind him. Then Thruanin fell upon Licoann first, with his sword drawn, and the two fought fiercely. Thelin drew his sword out, and slew Licoann from a mighty spear thrust from his side. The other brothers rushed upon the sisters. They had at first intended to rape the six Stewards, but Thruanin and Thelin had been adamant, for they wanted nothing other than their swords to touch the six daughters. The other brothers consented, and, one by one, the slowly plunged their swords into the six daughters they had once desired.
As each daughter fell, each cried out “May Amentoris remember us!”
Then each perished.
Neler fell first, followed by Feian, then Thiendori, then Pienhor, then Lerya, then finally, Treyal. Treyal wept bitterly, for she had to see all her other sisters slain. Then she wept for a moment, and said, “May my blood yet bless this reddened ground!” Then Thruanin’s sword fell upon her heart, and she died.
The six brothers left.
When Tiendar and Venyai did not see their children again for the evening meal, they began to grow worried, for their trip was to be a short one. Then they, with troubled hearts, began to send search parties in search of them. The searcher found their dead bodies on the ground in the northern stretch of the lake. They brought their slain bodies to Venyai, then Tiendar. The whole household wept for many a season afterward.
Now Amentoris the Wise saw his faithful Servant’s distress, and he came down from his great abode in Thol-Maran to speak with Tiendar and Venyai. When he first came down, he did not speak, but only sat down and wept with them. Then, when they had settled themselves, Amentoris spoke to them.
“My friend, I have heard your sorrow, and have seen the sadness in your eyes. I come to pay my deepest condolences.”
Then Tiendar looked up and said, “My Lord, You have come!”
Amentoris smiled sadly, and held Tiendar’s hand firmly, and comfortingly.
They spoke quietly of things, of other things, that took Tiendar’s and Venyai’s minds off of sorrow. But their minds came back to their children’s murder. And they beseeched Amentoris the Mighty, “Oh great One, could You not have prevented it? Could You not have allowed them to live?”
Amentoris looked into their eyes, and his eyes were sorrowful. “Oh my dear friend, I cannot explain all now, but one day, when the world is no more and you will return to dwell with me in Thol-Maran, I can explain, but for now, I cannot.”
“But, as a reminder, and a gift, I will give you my last token of love to you.” He pointed to the sky. “See that bow of seven colors in the firmament. Of red, and orange, and yellow, and green, and blue, and sea-indigo blue, and violet. That shall be my gift. May it be a bittersweet reminder for all of us to see, in memory of each of the colors that your children had chosen as their own,” he paused, “Then may this be. A gift, a reminder, a joy, a sorrow, a beam of hope to this world, as Endramius may endure.”
Then Amentoris’s presence left them. Leaving the rainbow to hang there, for the rest of time.
At this Neler, the eldest daughter shook her head, but did not speak until she had thought a little more. “I know not what to say of this, for though truly they ask for our hands in marriage, who but Amentoris can judge their spirits and deepest thoughts? Nevertheless, we must discern what we may. What say you, Father, Mother?”
Tiendar and Venyai heard this, and remained silent for a while. Venyai ancient gray hair gleamed briefly like silver, as did Tiendar’s beard, but then it stopped. They turned up to their children, and smiled somberly. “Perhaps, it would be wise to bid the sons of Dyavan to come again to our house, so our children may speak with them, as is the ancient custom. However, we must be wary, and keep our eyes and ears and minds open and alert. Then we shall make our choice.”
And so it was. The messengers were sent back to Dyavan’s household, at which, when Dyavan heard the reply, brought his sons together and was furious, for he hadn’t until then realized what his sons had done. “What is the meaning of this? Your iniquity is testament to the training of your mother and scorning of your father!”
Alas, the father sent his sons away to Tiendar’s house, though without his blessing, and sent them with many gifts and golden-made objects to the house of Tiendar (to make all appearance all was well in the Court of Dyavan). The six sons left immediately, and sojourned for two weeks and two days. They were welcomed into the house, though not as warmly as when Dyavan had first come, for the daughters were careful and wary.
For the first and second days, the brothers remained ever courteous, constantly being good in seemingly all ways. But during the third day, Thelin the Eldest son requested that he and his brothers could speak with the Sisters. The message was sent to Tiendar (who was elsewhere in his realm). To this, Tiendar accepted, though he insisted that he and Licoann be there at each meeting, for Tiendar had desired to be careful with this potential arrangement.
Thelin and the Brothers consented, and so Thelin, the eldest, met with Neler the Eldest, as was the custom. Tiendar and Licoann sat between the two, but watched closely. They met by the lakeside, and spoke. Neler asked of Thelin many questions, of interests, of wisdom, of passions, and of morality. What she found in the Thelin the Fay was warlike of heart, strong in will, brave, but lacked the control to hold his own might. Yet, though she was not pleased, she spoke a little more before until sunset arrived, and they group left for the evening meal.
The next day, the second eldest, Baranin, and the second eldest, Feian met. They spoke, and Feian found the same in his heart.
Then Borthonin met with Thiendori, then Carin with Pienhor, then Thruilin and Lerya, and then finally Thruanin with Treyal. After this, the family of Tiendar took counsel once more, and they spoke as one. They all found, though, that the Sons of Dyavan were as Neler had perceived; willful, uncontrolled, fearless, yet not disciplined in righteousness or the way of right. Their father had seen this, but had perceived also a kind of darkness over his heart whenever he saw the swords at the Brothers’ waists. This he spoke of none to, except Venyai (many a season later). This was one of the least wise of the acts of Tiendar, though he was discerning and upright throughout his immortal days on Endramius. Perhaps had he brought his troubled thoughts to Amentoris the Wise, the course of events may have differed, but he did not, and he regretted his silence.
But for the time, Tiendar spoke carefully, and he and his family declined the brothers’ proposals. But though they refused, they still invited the Sons of Dyavan to a great feast at Tiendar’s table. A messenger was sent, and Thelin received the news in his apartments (for all guests of Tiendar and Venyai were given large staying quarters). Thelin read this, and was infuriated, and he flew into a terrible rage, for ever had his desire been growing, and his initial disappointment turned itself into the black form of hate. He then read the message to his brothers, and they too became angry. Now in his rage, Thelin devised a second wicked scheme, now for the purpose of obtaining vengeance. He suggested this, “My brothers, we have been scornfully rejected by the great house of Tiendar the Steward. He and his household have believed that their place shall be happier without our presence here. We must deprive them of happiness forever! We, of the Greater Fays, sons of Dyavan the Mighty, shall, by this time in three days, slay the six daughters of Tiendar!”
It was done. They declined the feast, and pretended to need to be on their way home, on the pretense their father was expecting them. They then left, cordially making their farewells and blessings upon the household of Tiendar. But they only had left the borders of Tiendar’s realm before they stopped, and camped there. Every day they would move silently towards the Dinkaron Lake, and waited for the six daughters to pass by. The first and second day yielded nothing. But on the third day, Thelin (who had been scouting, sighted the six daughters with Licoann their brother, and he quickly returned to his camp to alert his brothers. They were ready, and ever so silently they crept back into Tiendar’s realm.
They sighted the Stewards again, and stalked them silently. Alas, when they had stopped by the lakeside for a drink, the six brothers sprang their trap, and rushed out of the woods. Licoann drew his sword the instant he saw them, and he call his sisters to go behind him. Then Thruanin fell upon Licoann first, with his sword drawn, and the two fought fiercely. Thelin drew his sword out, and slew Licoann from a mighty spear thrust from his side. The other brothers rushed upon the sisters. They had at first intended to rape the six Stewards, but Thruanin and Thelin had been adamant, for they wanted nothing other than their swords to touch the six daughters. The other brothers consented, and, one by one, the slowly plunged their swords into the six daughters they had once desired.
As each daughter fell, each cried out “May Amentoris remember us!”
Then each perished.
Neler fell first, followed by Feian, then Thiendori, then Pienhor, then Lerya, then finally, Treyal. Treyal wept bitterly, for she had to see all her other sisters slain. Then she wept for a moment, and said, “May my blood yet bless this reddened ground!” Then Thruanin’s sword fell upon her heart, and she died.
The six brothers left.
When Tiendar and Venyai did not see their children again for the evening meal, they began to grow worried, for their trip was to be a short one. Then they, with troubled hearts, began to send search parties in search of them. The searcher found their dead bodies on the ground in the northern stretch of the lake. They brought their slain bodies to Venyai, then Tiendar. The whole household wept for many a season afterward.
Now Amentoris the Wise saw his faithful Servant’s distress, and he came down from his great abode in Thol-Maran to speak with Tiendar and Venyai. When he first came down, he did not speak, but only sat down and wept with them. Then, when they had settled themselves, Amentoris spoke to them.
“My friend, I have heard your sorrow, and have seen the sadness in your eyes. I come to pay my deepest condolences.”
Then Tiendar looked up and said, “My Lord, You have come!”
Amentoris smiled sadly, and held Tiendar’s hand firmly, and comfortingly.
They spoke quietly of things, of other things, that took Tiendar’s and Venyai’s minds off of sorrow. But their minds came back to their children’s murder. And they beseeched Amentoris the Mighty, “Oh great One, could You not have prevented it? Could You not have allowed them to live?”
Amentoris looked into their eyes, and his eyes were sorrowful. “Oh my dear friend, I cannot explain all now, but one day, when the world is no more and you will return to dwell with me in Thol-Maran, I can explain, but for now, I cannot.”
“But, as a reminder, and a gift, I will give you my last token of love to you.” He pointed to the sky. “See that bow of seven colors in the firmament. Of red, and orange, and yellow, and green, and blue, and sea-indigo blue, and violet. That shall be my gift. May it be a bittersweet reminder for all of us to see, in memory of each of the colors that your children had chosen as their own,” he paused, “Then may this be. A gift, a reminder, a joy, a sorrow, a beam of hope to this world, as Endramius may endure.”
Then Amentoris’s presence left them. Leaving the rainbow to hang there, for the rest of time.
Bidal-Karon
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Starting a 2-part series. Another addition to my little stock of Tyatoran legends (haha!).
In the later years and seasons after the Great Making, and after the Rebellion of Jalkir, there were yet many of the faithful stewards of Endramius. Among which, the wisest of their number, were chosen to be the Jyelvarin, the Princes, by Amentoris Himself. Each of these Princes, were delegated tasks and regions to care for and look after, as time and earth may endure. Each was given one place to call their own; some were given mountains, some rivers, some principles or natural laws to supervise. They and their households would watch over the land, as a gardener over a great field, or a Guardian over a doorway. They were not masters of the land, only caretakers, for their duty was different from that of us mortals. Yet, for this, they were content to be, and they lived happy ages, and still live on, throughout the Seasons of Endramius.
Among these Jyelvarin, Lord Tiendar set up his stewardship of the Lake of Dinkaron, of the Merry Heart. He and his wife, Venyai, cultivated the land surrounding the lake, and caused the fish and water-flowers of the lake to flourish. Beautiful was the land under his and his fair wife’s care.
It came to pass that Venyai became with child, and she gave birth to their first daughter, Neler. After her, Venyai had another daughter, Feian. And after Feian, came the Twin Sisters, Thiendori and Pienhor. After the Twins, Venyai had two more daughters, Lerya, and Treyal. And finally, Tiendar and Venyai, had their last child, a son named Licoann.
And many long years passed, as the household grew larger and merrier with the laughter of young children, and the sound of music was constant. Many a traveler and pilgrim, even Solemn Lathur, came to see the shimmering lake of Dinkaron, and bear gifts to the great house of Tiendar and Venyai. Of gifts, they refused, but instead constantly gave, and despite it, they grew wealthier and greater still. Truly and mightily was the blessing of Amentoris upon them.
Their daughters and son grew tall and fair, as was the appearance of all the great Stewards. And they each took upon themselves a robe to the shade of color that was their own. Neler took maroon, Feian took the hue of citrus, The Twin Sisters each took to themselves the shades of gold and forest green. Lerya took the blue of rivers, while Treyal took the shades of the Blue Sea. Licoann took the rich violet that symbolized tenacity and loyalty.
Now very fair were these, especially among the daughters, of which there was no comparison on Endramius, though none among them were the greater. They were raised faithfully in the way of Amentoris, and they faithfully took on and upheld that which they had been taught.
As it was, to the south, there were the Greater Fays, led by King Dyavan, which means Gleaming Sword. He, among all the other fays of Endramius, opposed Jalkir heavily, and was one of the most upright and warlike of his race. He had six sons, Thelin, Baranin, Borthonin, Carin, Thruilin, and Thruanin. They, like their father, were warlike and strong, yet unlike their father, and more like their mother, were impulsive and less upright.
Alas, when King Dyavan and his sons came to visit Tiendar and his household, he came bearing many gifts. As was his custom, Tiendar refused, and instead treated his mighty guest with many feasts and celebrations. At the time, the seven children of Venyai and Tiendar had been off to deal with a large infestation of weeds on the Northern Lakeside. A messenger was sent to tell them to return for the feasts.
On the fifth day of celebrations, they came, having dealt with the large bulk of weeds. Down they came, in their flying robes, and spent the day readying for the night’s merriment.
That night, they came to the feast, for King Dyavan and his sons were staying but for one more night. And on this day, the six brothers first met the Steward maidens of Tiendar. At first sight, the brothers found these sisters very beautiful, but they kept their thoughts secret, to each other and to their father. However, throughout the merry-making and celebrations, the six brothers’ eyes were ever on the daughters of Tiendar. Licoann, though, by chance saw their furtive glances and was troubled by that flash in their pupils, but he spoke of this not, for he decided such suspicions as folly.
The next day, Dyavan returned to his realm, with his sons and their retinues. Dyavan, upon their departure and return, noticed a cloud over his sons’ heads. He was wary for a while, but let it slide off over the weeks to come. In truth, the brothers had great desire for the maidens of Dinkaron, and time oft breeds greater desire for all manner things. Their desire ever grew greater, and in time they spoke among themselves about it. They had all considered asking their father to arrange a series of weddings between they and the Stewards, but pride stubbornly held them back.
Finally, Thelin, the eldest of Dyavan’s sons, suggested a plan that surely would allow them to arrange marriages of their desires. It was a crafty and conniving plan, but impulse and want overruled morality and uprightness.
“Let us then invite our father to a feast, and make him drunken with heavy wine. Upon this, we will persuade him to give us all a promise, and we will arrange our plans well. We will send the messages to the King Tiendar. When our father has awoken from his stupor, he will have no opposition to our plans, and will not realize his decisions the day before.”
Thruanin, the youngest, heard this proposal, and was unhappy. His love for his father was no greater than that of his brothers, but his standards were more upright, and he was reluctant to partaking in the plan. But his desire too overruled his conscience, and he remained silent.
The sons of Dyavan executed the plan. All went as was expected, and messengers were sent to Tiendar’s household, bearing proposals. The bearers of the messages were welcomed cordially by Tiendar, and their proposals were considered. Venyai and Tiendar called his family together from their duties and held a private council among them.
And that is where we stop for this post. To be continued. . .
In the later years and seasons after the Great Making, and after the Rebellion of Jalkir, there were yet many of the faithful stewards of Endramius. Among which, the wisest of their number, were chosen to be the Jyelvarin, the Princes, by Amentoris Himself. Each of these Princes, were delegated tasks and regions to care for and look after, as time and earth may endure. Each was given one place to call their own; some were given mountains, some rivers, some principles or natural laws to supervise. They and their households would watch over the land, as a gardener over a great field, or a Guardian over a doorway. They were not masters of the land, only caretakers, for their duty was different from that of us mortals. Yet, for this, they were content to be, and they lived happy ages, and still live on, throughout the Seasons of Endramius.
Among these Jyelvarin, Lord Tiendar set up his stewardship of the Lake of Dinkaron, of the Merry Heart. He and his wife, Venyai, cultivated the land surrounding the lake, and caused the fish and water-flowers of the lake to flourish. Beautiful was the land under his and his fair wife’s care.
It came to pass that Venyai became with child, and she gave birth to their first daughter, Neler. After her, Venyai had another daughter, Feian. And after Feian, came the Twin Sisters, Thiendori and Pienhor. After the Twins, Venyai had two more daughters, Lerya, and Treyal. And finally, Tiendar and Venyai, had their last child, a son named Licoann.
And many long years passed, as the household grew larger and merrier with the laughter of young children, and the sound of music was constant. Many a traveler and pilgrim, even Solemn Lathur, came to see the shimmering lake of Dinkaron, and bear gifts to the great house of Tiendar and Venyai. Of gifts, they refused, but instead constantly gave, and despite it, they grew wealthier and greater still. Truly and mightily was the blessing of Amentoris upon them.
Their daughters and son grew tall and fair, as was the appearance of all the great Stewards. And they each took upon themselves a robe to the shade of color that was their own. Neler took maroon, Feian took the hue of citrus, The Twin Sisters each took to themselves the shades of gold and forest green. Lerya took the blue of rivers, while Treyal took the shades of the Blue Sea. Licoann took the rich violet that symbolized tenacity and loyalty.
Now very fair were these, especially among the daughters, of which there was no comparison on Endramius, though none among them were the greater. They were raised faithfully in the way of Amentoris, and they faithfully took on and upheld that which they had been taught.
As it was, to the south, there were the Greater Fays, led by King Dyavan, which means Gleaming Sword. He, among all the other fays of Endramius, opposed Jalkir heavily, and was one of the most upright and warlike of his race. He had six sons, Thelin, Baranin, Borthonin, Carin, Thruilin, and Thruanin. They, like their father, were warlike and strong, yet unlike their father, and more like their mother, were impulsive and less upright.
Alas, when King Dyavan and his sons came to visit Tiendar and his household, he came bearing many gifts. As was his custom, Tiendar refused, and instead treated his mighty guest with many feasts and celebrations. At the time, the seven children of Venyai and Tiendar had been off to deal with a large infestation of weeds on the Northern Lakeside. A messenger was sent to tell them to return for the feasts.
On the fifth day of celebrations, they came, having dealt with the large bulk of weeds. Down they came, in their flying robes, and spent the day readying for the night’s merriment.
That night, they came to the feast, for King Dyavan and his sons were staying but for one more night. And on this day, the six brothers first met the Steward maidens of Tiendar. At first sight, the brothers found these sisters very beautiful, but they kept their thoughts secret, to each other and to their father. However, throughout the merry-making and celebrations, the six brothers’ eyes were ever on the daughters of Tiendar. Licoann, though, by chance saw their furtive glances and was troubled by that flash in their pupils, but he spoke of this not, for he decided such suspicions as folly.
The next day, Dyavan returned to his realm, with his sons and their retinues. Dyavan, upon their departure and return, noticed a cloud over his sons’ heads. He was wary for a while, but let it slide off over the weeks to come. In truth, the brothers had great desire for the maidens of Dinkaron, and time oft breeds greater desire for all manner things. Their desire ever grew greater, and in time they spoke among themselves about it. They had all considered asking their father to arrange a series of weddings between they and the Stewards, but pride stubbornly held them back.
Finally, Thelin, the eldest of Dyavan’s sons, suggested a plan that surely would allow them to arrange marriages of their desires. It was a crafty and conniving plan, but impulse and want overruled morality and uprightness.
“Let us then invite our father to a feast, and make him drunken with heavy wine. Upon this, we will persuade him to give us all a promise, and we will arrange our plans well. We will send the messages to the King Tiendar. When our father has awoken from his stupor, he will have no opposition to our plans, and will not realize his decisions the day before.”
Thruanin, the youngest, heard this proposal, and was unhappy. His love for his father was no greater than that of his brothers, but his standards were more upright, and he was reluctant to partaking in the plan. But his desire too overruled his conscience, and he remained silent.
The sons of Dyavan executed the plan. All went as was expected, and messengers were sent to Tiendar’s household, bearing proposals. The bearers of the messages were welcomed cordially by Tiendar, and their proposals were considered. Venyai and Tiendar called his family together from their duties and held a private council among them.
And that is where we stop for this post. To be continued. . .
The Blessing of a Tyatoran Vessel
Sunday, May 10, 2009
This is really a short poem. Hope my dear readers don't mind.
Nilozhin, forever may thy azure banners fly,
And as long as this world is, may your golden flag sail high.
Reach for much, stretch thy arms, spread thy wings,
Touch the lands where the phoenixes sing.
Go far, sail far, may Amentoris's winds blow thy course,
May the currents push thy keel in steady force.
May Al-Waldor, steward of the sea, lead thy gleaming masts,
May you sail steadily and fast!
Fly, Nilozhin, go far!
Nilozhin, forever may thy azure banners fly,
And as long as this world is, may your golden flag sail high.
Reach for much, stretch thy arms, spread thy wings,
Touch the lands where the phoenixes sing.
Go far, sail far, may Amentoris's winds blow thy course,
May the currents push thy keel in steady force.
May Al-Waldor, steward of the sea, lead thy gleaming masts,
May you sail steadily and fast!
Fly, Nilozhin, go far!
The Castle
Saturday, May 2, 2009
The Sad People built it, so many years and moons ago,
When they fled their Western lands, the lands of stags and does.
When evil spread over that part fo the realm,
And poured forth from their lairs, wearing warshield and helm.
The Days before the Great Castle.
The Sad People, who fled to moor and waste,
who retreated to the mountains, in speed and fear and haste,
Who left the Land of Luringon, and ventured into the wide, open East,
Untamed, full of chaos, full of foul foe and wicked beast.
The Land Before the Great Castle.
They moved around from place to place, without land to call theur own,
Further and further away, from the land they once had known,
They fought the beasts of this land, the bandits and Goorts that dogged their way,
They traversed through wood and desert, by night, by dusk, by day.
To the place of the Great Castle.
Then upon one winter day, they saw a rock a glimmering,
That jut out the coast, pushed into the water shimmering,
And said the Chief of the Sad Ones, "Blessed is this rock that all may see,"
And so they, as one, built upon that rock a castle, the Castle Armathi.
The Building of the Great Castle.
They remembered the structures laid in ancient Luringon, the arches and pillars and carven stone,
How their fore-fathers had polished ivory limestone till it shone,
And so they built their Castle, as a refuge for the weary,
A Fortress for those whose eyes are sad and teary.
The Construction of the great Castle.
Finally, they built their fort, a new capital for a sad and weary people,
that overlooked the sea and land, to see the waters wave and ripple.
The crenellated turrets that shot into the sky and cloud,
A marble-covered fort that darkness cannot shroud.
The Great Castle.
To this day, the Glad People hold this Great Castle by the coastline,
Whose ancient marble reflects and glows and shines,
Who cannot fall to sword nor spear nor bow,
That all that is chaos and disorder cannot know.
This is the Great castle.
And to this day, the castle thus described,
Upon its scutcheon this is inscribed,
When they fled their Western lands, the lands of stags and does.
When evil spread over that part fo the realm,
And poured forth from their lairs, wearing warshield and helm.
The Days before the Great Castle.
The Sad People, who fled to moor and waste,
who retreated to the mountains, in speed and fear and haste,
Who left the Land of Luringon, and ventured into the wide, open East,
Untamed, full of chaos, full of foul foe and wicked beast.
The Land Before the Great Castle.
They moved around from place to place, without land to call theur own,
Further and further away, from the land they once had known,
They fought the beasts of this land, the bandits and Goorts that dogged their way,
They traversed through wood and desert, by night, by dusk, by day.
To the place of the Great Castle.
Then upon one winter day, they saw a rock a glimmering,
That jut out the coast, pushed into the water shimmering,
And said the Chief of the Sad Ones, "Blessed is this rock that all may see,"
And so they, as one, built upon that rock a castle, the Castle Armathi.
The Building of the Great Castle.
They remembered the structures laid in ancient Luringon, the arches and pillars and carven stone,
How their fore-fathers had polished ivory limestone till it shone,
And so they built their Castle, as a refuge for the weary,
A Fortress for those whose eyes are sad and teary.
The Construction of the great Castle.
Finally, they built their fort, a new capital for a sad and weary people,
that overlooked the sea and land, to see the waters wave and ripple.
The crenellated turrets that shot into the sky and cloud,
A marble-covered fort that darkness cannot shroud.
The Great Castle.
To this day, the Glad People hold this Great Castle by the coastline,
Whose ancient marble reflects and glows and shines,
Who cannot fall to sword nor spear nor bow,
That all that is chaos and disorder cannot know.
This is the Great castle.
And to this day, the castle thus described,
Upon its scutcheon this is inscribed,
"Come, weary and mournful, who hide from the dark and foe of night,
This Castle's gates is open for thee, its walls shine true and bright!
Come, ye who flee from evil and rapine, who search for a land to find refuge in place,
A land that fire and foe cannot raze,
This is the Castle for thee,
A place for the Exiled, built by the Exiled,
This is the Castle for Thee"
Firk-Nott Volcabulary
Thursday, April 2, 2009
I think I'm going a bit too enthusiastic about Tyatora.
Maybe even crazy about it.
I've gotten so excited with the idea of fleshing out Tyatora and its world, this driving hobby of mine to get everything about this fantasy realm of mine organized, A to Z. Ideas of new peoples and cultures and places pop into my mind every now and then, but I'm gearing myself up for perhaps the toughest aspect of my fantasy world:
Language-making.
I don't think I'll feel truly satisfied wiith my work without several developed languages in my fantasy. It just has to be made.
I've been trying for the past month or so to develop languages for the world Tyatora. I'm not sure how to start, nor do I know exactly what I plan to do. I have absolutely no idea how to complete my self-imposed goal, but oh well. . .
There goes a stab in the dark.
So far, I've been trying to create some root words and suffixes for the Firk-Nott language of Tyatora. I've got roughly forty words down on paper, based on about twenty or so roots. The idea is to form the roots first, then combine these roots with other roots and suffixes. Most of the Firk-Nott nouns and pronouns will be made this way (the language I'm making will have a lot of compound words).
Pronouns, articles, and prepositions will be developed next (if I haven't given up altogether by then). From there, I'll come up somehow with the grammar.
This is all in theory, of course, and there probably will be a lot of kinks to iron out of my experimental language.
Here are a few of the words I've made, Firk-Nott words placed first, and the English equivalent placed next to it:
olkvo = considerate, polite, good
alin = people/person
dram =man/male being
nill = lady/female being
olkvo-dram =gentleman
olkvo-nill= polite lady
Frantar = Traveller
I'm out of time, Mom's calling me to see something.
I apologize, good Reader.
Until the next post,
Joshua of Tyatora.
Maybe even crazy about it.
I've gotten so excited with the idea of fleshing out Tyatora and its world, this driving hobby of mine to get everything about this fantasy realm of mine organized, A to Z. Ideas of new peoples and cultures and places pop into my mind every now and then, but I'm gearing myself up for perhaps the toughest aspect of my fantasy world:
Language-making.
I don't think I'll feel truly satisfied wiith my work without several developed languages in my fantasy. It just has to be made.
I've been trying for the past month or so to develop languages for the world Tyatora. I'm not sure how to start, nor do I know exactly what I plan to do. I have absolutely no idea how to complete my self-imposed goal, but oh well. . .
There goes a stab in the dark.
So far, I've been trying to create some root words and suffixes for the Firk-Nott language of Tyatora. I've got roughly forty words down on paper, based on about twenty or so roots. The idea is to form the roots first, then combine these roots with other roots and suffixes. Most of the Firk-Nott nouns and pronouns will be made this way (the language I'm making will have a lot of compound words).
Pronouns, articles, and prepositions will be developed next (if I haven't given up altogether by then). From there, I'll come up somehow with the grammar.
This is all in theory, of course, and there probably will be a lot of kinks to iron out of my experimental language.
Here are a few of the words I've made, Firk-Nott words placed first, and the English equivalent placed next to it:
olkvo = considerate, polite, good
alin = people/person
dram =man/male being
nill = lady/female being
olkvo-dram =gentleman
olkvo-nill= polite lady
Frantar = Traveller
I'm out of time, Mom's calling me to see something.
I apologize, good Reader.
Until the next post,
Joshua of Tyatora.
Whale-song
Friday, March 27, 2009
Another fantasy-poem. This one isn't too sad.
The Eastern Whales, the descendants of Tranalri,
Who sing under ancient stars, and under open sea,
In search of Hidden Tralvinurr,
The place once of their ancestors, a place of old lore.
The Eastern Whales, the descendants of Tranalri,
Who sing under ancient stars, and under open sea,
In search of Hidden Tralvinurr,
The place once of their ancestors, a place of old lore.
None, in all the many realms of the deep,
Know where Hidden Tralvinnur lies,
Where time itself seems to have fallen asleep,
Who's timeless sea-beds age defies.
And so the Whales are singing,
bellowing heavily in the waves,
In hope to hear the reverbration,
That all of Whale-race craves.
That echoes across the sea so vast,
And fills the crying shades of blue,
And Hidden Tralvinurr sings back,
humming the whalesong, great and true.
The rocks of Hidden Tralvinurr,
Will echo out the whale-tune,
When it hears that song again, once more,
Under the glowing palor of the moon.
Perhaps the Whales may find their place,
Where krill and herring come in numbers great,
Rebuild their slowly dwindling race,
And restore the broken Cetamor State.
On the Ocean throne of Anidralut,
A mighty whale-king may yet again arise,
And retake from the pirates, their stolen loot,
That the whale-song may again shake the waves and skies.
But of yet, the kingdom of the Western Whales,
Again, has gone asleep,
Dormant through the winters,
Till awakened from the Deep.
And when the once-fallen land, Tralvinurr, has awakened,
Deep will be the singing of the whale-song.
The foes of cetaceans may be shaken,
And broken the manacles that had held the Free Lords so long
Know where Hidden Tralvinnur lies,
Where time itself seems to have fallen asleep,
Who's timeless sea-beds age defies.
And so the Whales are singing,
bellowing heavily in the waves,
In hope to hear the reverbration,
That all of Whale-race craves.
That echoes across the sea so vast,
And fills the crying shades of blue,
And Hidden Tralvinurr sings back,
humming the whalesong, great and true.
The rocks of Hidden Tralvinurr,
Will echo out the whale-tune,
When it hears that song again, once more,
Under the glowing palor of the moon.
Perhaps the Whales may find their place,
Where krill and herring come in numbers great,
Rebuild their slowly dwindling race,
And restore the broken Cetamor State.
On the Ocean throne of Anidralut,
A mighty whale-king may yet again arise,
And retake from the pirates, their stolen loot,
That the whale-song may again shake the waves and skies.
But of yet, the kingdom of the Western Whales,
Again, has gone asleep,
Dormant through the winters,
Till awakened from the Deep.
And when the once-fallen land, Tralvinurr, has awakened,
Deep will be the singing of the whale-song.
The foes of cetaceans may be shaken,
And broken the manacles that had held the Free Lords so long
The Eastern Whales, the descendants of Tranalri,
Who sing under ancient stars, and under open sea,
In search of Hidden Tralvinurr,
The place once of their ancestors, a place of old lore.
Pining Phoenix
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Haven't written such a long poem in a while.
In the grassy, green, slopes in realm afar,
East of Crinsehr, West of Tyatora,
North of the Coastline, south of the pits of tar,
Lies the land of the Phoenixes of Pierah.
The Phoenixes of Pierah,
Who came from distant land,
Growers of peach and aloe vera,
Far from Leprechauns and men.
A wondrous race of bird were they,
Those fire-birds of wingspan great,
Whose feather like red roses in May,
Whose beak like carven stone of agate.
And so these orioles of flame,
Came upon these open slopes,
Upon a land without a name,
A land of freedom and new hope.
They settled there,
And grew their aloe vera and peach,
they colonized their kingdom fair.
out of man's and giant's reach.
For a thousand years their people rule,
lived upon the hills and dales,
In the kingdom of mountain and pool.
There they were, scarlet wings, plumed tails.
Then the men of Korasarrh,
Came into this wondrous land,
They came to raid; to break; to mar,
With the power of the lances in their hands.
The phoenixes now rose, united as one,
and sharpened the blades their ancestors had born,
Rallied they, Flame-Birds of the Sun,
Who now wore the armor their forefathers had worn.
But alas, the phoenixes were broken,
Crushed by charging spear,
before the axes of the Korasarrh men,
And many, for their loved ones, shed tear.
The phoenixes left the Land Without Name,
dispersed to the distant corners of the earth,
Sad were they, to leave the Kingdom of the Phoenixes of Flame
The land of their heritage, the land of their birth.
Now, today, they hide by cover of night,
englow the fields with their burning fire,
They emit a sad, mournful form of light,
In the fiefdoms and shires.
Tonight, you might hear a sorrowed phoenix pining,
Weeping for the pain that throbs within her heart,
Perhaps see her feathers shining,
As she spreads her great wings apart.
Their song is heard now,
Loud and piercing,
One that saddens men, birds, and cows.
One that sends the ground to quivering.
Shaking mountain,
Halting wind,
breaking fountain,
roaring din.
And such is the pining of the Phoenixes,
wailing and sad.
In the grassy, green, slopes in realm afar,
East of Crinsehr, West of Tyatora,
North of the Coastline, south of the pits of tar,
Lies the land of the Phoenixes of Pierah.
The Phoenixes of Pierah,
Who came from distant land,
Growers of peach and aloe vera,
Far from Leprechauns and men.
A wondrous race of bird were they,
Those fire-birds of wingspan great,
Whose feather like red roses in May,
Whose beak like carven stone of agate.
And so these orioles of flame,
Came upon these open slopes,
Upon a land without a name,
A land of freedom and new hope.
They settled there,
And grew their aloe vera and peach,
they colonized their kingdom fair.
out of man's and giant's reach.
For a thousand years their people rule,
lived upon the hills and dales,
In the kingdom of mountain and pool.
There they were, scarlet wings, plumed tails.
Then the men of Korasarrh,
Came into this wondrous land,
They came to raid; to break; to mar,
With the power of the lances in their hands.
The phoenixes now rose, united as one,
and sharpened the blades their ancestors had born,
Rallied they, Flame-Birds of the Sun,
Who now wore the armor their forefathers had worn.
But alas, the phoenixes were broken,
Crushed by charging spear,
before the axes of the Korasarrh men,
And many, for their loved ones, shed tear.
The phoenixes left the Land Without Name,
dispersed to the distant corners of the earth,
Sad were they, to leave the Kingdom of the Phoenixes of Flame
The land of their heritage, the land of their birth.
Now, today, they hide by cover of night,
englow the fields with their burning fire,
They emit a sad, mournful form of light,
In the fiefdoms and shires.
Tonight, you might hear a sorrowed phoenix pining,
Weeping for the pain that throbs within her heart,
Perhaps see her feathers shining,
As she spreads her great wings apart.
Their song is heard now,
Loud and piercing,
One that saddens men, birds, and cows.
One that sends the ground to quivering.
Shaking mountain,
Halting wind,
breaking fountain,
roaring din.
And such is the pining of the Phoenixes,
wailing and sad.
Tyatora III
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Yay! I've developed and drafted the races of Tyatora.
Now I need a history (desparately). Hmm. . . This will take a while.
Tyatora is, err, 324 years old. It was created as a confederacy of the various races I mentioned, directly after the Colovician Wars*. The seven leaders of the seven races met at the town of Tillari, and forged a unique alliance, or the Treaty of Tyatroin.
The Treaty was created mainly as a military precaution, a joining of several weak states to form a stable economy and standing defense force in a battle-ravaged land. Tyatorans see this date as the foundng of a nation, a creation of a people. This date is the first year in the Tyatoran calendar.
All years upon this are described based on the number of years away they are from the year of the Treaty. For example, if you were to see the date, "246, N.T.," it means it is 246 years after the year of the treaty. As for the mysterious "NT", the initials stand for, in the Tyatoran tongue, Nigh-aget Tyatroin, or, in English, "Upon the Year of the Tyatroin Treaty."
I think that's all I'll do this post. I won't go into people, events, and places yet. I'm trying to make a framework with which I can use to create more tales and stories on. I hope to make individual records of how each ethnic species came to the land of Tyatora soon.
*The Colovician Wars were a series of wars that occured off and on over one hundred years before 1 NT. It was sparked off by the human earl named Colovici, who incited several wars to wipe out the other races of the continent. Immediately, good human barons, Firk-nott warrior-priests, and gnomes allied to destroy his army. He won the first war, but lost the other five wars he launched. He and most of his men were wiped out in the Battle of Ghimlass. However, his immediate posterity established great castles and forts of resistance, and it took many more years of fighting to destroy these mighty strongholds. By then, the entire continent was tired, exhausted of the raging wars that had gone on for more than one hundred years.
Now I need a history (desparately). Hmm. . . This will take a while.
Tyatora is, err, 324 years old. It was created as a confederacy of the various races I mentioned, directly after the Colovician Wars*. The seven leaders of the seven races met at the town of Tillari, and forged a unique alliance, or the Treaty of Tyatroin.
The Treaty was created mainly as a military precaution, a joining of several weak states to form a stable economy and standing defense force in a battle-ravaged land. Tyatorans see this date as the foundng of a nation, a creation of a people. This date is the first year in the Tyatoran calendar.
All years upon this are described based on the number of years away they are from the year of the Treaty. For example, if you were to see the date, "246, N.T.," it means it is 246 years after the year of the treaty. As for the mysterious "NT", the initials stand for, in the Tyatoran tongue, Nigh-aget Tyatroin, or, in English, "Upon the Year of the Tyatroin Treaty."
I think that's all I'll do this post. I won't go into people, events, and places yet. I'm trying to make a framework with which I can use to create more tales and stories on. I hope to make individual records of how each ethnic species came to the land of Tyatora soon.
*The Colovician Wars were a series of wars that occured off and on over one hundred years before 1 NT. It was sparked off by the human earl named Colovici, who incited several wars to wipe out the other races of the continent. Immediately, good human barons, Firk-nott warrior-priests, and gnomes allied to destroy his army. He won the first war, but lost the other five wars he launched. He and most of his men were wiped out in the Battle of Ghimlass. However, his immediate posterity established great castles and forts of resistance, and it took many more years of fighting to destroy these mighty strongholds. By then, the entire continent was tired, exhausted of the raging wars that had gone on for more than one hundred years.
Tyatora II
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
I think I'm in a Tyatora craze.
I can't stop thinking about it, and I spend a considerable amount of time thinking about it, inventing new ideas and history. Tyatora has fascinated me, and its charm has made (and probably always will continue making) a mark on my life. I use this not as an "escape" world, but as a mirror, to reflect my thoughts, my heartcries, and my desire to express my deep admiration and wonder of Yahweh; or as the Tyatorans call Him, "Amentoris". It is, in essence, me.
I did forget, however, that there are two additional races (besides the ones I spoke of last post on Tyatora).
1. Gryphions (Tyatoran spelling of Griffins)
2. Chinchillas. Don't worry, Gryphions don't eat Chinchillas.
The Gryphions are a mountain race. Fierce and independant, the live in the gold-rich mountains of Norhtern Tyatora. This region is ruled (and ferociously guarded) by the griffin tribes, and all but a few contract-based companies and government programs are allowed to mine their gold here. Previously, prospectors and greedy giants threatened to start a Tyatoran Gold-rush, but the Gryphions drove back the gold-getters at the Battle of Vatlinclov some 500 years ago.
They, surprisingly, are herbivorous, who are fond of eating Kimboli Ferns and noodles.
The Chinchillas, are also a mountain race, but live on the fertile hillsides of Western Tyatora. They are farmers by trade, and swordsmiths. A family of Chinchillas may take four days to make a Gryphion-sized sword, slaving over this one sword, hammering, thwacking, planning, enlaying etc. When they are done, they sell this to the government for fifty thousand Corcals (Tyatoran currency). That's a lot of money, by the way. Their swords are so reputable to be good the govt. just has to have them (more or less a national ego). Their fruits are pretty sweet too.
Mom's calling, I'm out of time. Sorry about that. Hope you don't mind, readers. Oh yeah, I'll try to do Part Four of the Polar bear story soon(those things are hard to chug out).
I can't stop thinking about it, and I spend a considerable amount of time thinking about it, inventing new ideas and history. Tyatora has fascinated me, and its charm has made (and probably always will continue making) a mark on my life. I use this not as an "escape" world, but as a mirror, to reflect my thoughts, my heartcries, and my desire to express my deep admiration and wonder of Yahweh; or as the Tyatorans call Him, "Amentoris". It is, in essence, me.
I did forget, however, that there are two additional races (besides the ones I spoke of last post on Tyatora).
1. Gryphions (Tyatoran spelling of Griffins)
2. Chinchillas. Don't worry, Gryphions don't eat Chinchillas.
The Gryphions are a mountain race. Fierce and independant, the live in the gold-rich mountains of Norhtern Tyatora. This region is ruled (and ferociously guarded) by the griffin tribes, and all but a few contract-based companies and government programs are allowed to mine their gold here. Previously, prospectors and greedy giants threatened to start a Tyatoran Gold-rush, but the Gryphions drove back the gold-getters at the Battle of Vatlinclov some 500 years ago.
They, surprisingly, are herbivorous, who are fond of eating Kimboli Ferns and noodles.
The Chinchillas, are also a mountain race, but live on the fertile hillsides of Western Tyatora. They are farmers by trade, and swordsmiths. A family of Chinchillas may take four days to make a Gryphion-sized sword, slaving over this one sword, hammering, thwacking, planning, enlaying etc. When they are done, they sell this to the government for fifty thousand Corcals (Tyatoran currency). That's a lot of money, by the way. Their swords are so reputable to be good the govt. just has to have them (more or less a national ego). Their fruits are pretty sweet too.
Mom's calling, I'm out of time. Sorry about that. Hope you don't mind, readers. Oh yeah, I'll try to do Part Four of the Polar bear story soon(those things are hard to chug out).
Tyatora
Saturday, February 7, 2009
I'm nation inventing again. I'm callling my new country Tyatora.
Tye-uh-Torh-uh.
Paravania was my old invention, but I'll keep my blog's name as Paravania Voice. Paravania's south of Tyatora. Paravania's a great deal bigger, and the inhabitants are different. Paravanian people are mainly animals and dinosaurs.
There are five big races that consider themsleves Tyatorans:
1. Nomadic monkeys
2.Humans
3.Sea Cats (something liked finned-lions)
4. Mermaids (and mermen)
5. Firk-notts (Oversized crosses between wallabies and weasels).
Nomadic Monkeys are the literati and philosophers of the country.
Humans. . .they're just there. I guess one could say they're mainly businessmen. They migrated from China to Tyatora, through an interplanetary portal. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that Paravania and Tyatora are on another planet, called Endramius.
Anyways, back to the point, the Sea cats are a ship-sailing race. The can swim wonderfully but just don't really like it. They prefer manning their caravels.
Merpeople don't sail. They do the swimming. I guess the have to make up for the Sea cats' lack of interest.
Firk-notts are the farmers of the country. But in the past forty years, a lot of the younger generation of Firk-notts are migrating to cities. Tyatora has some racial discrimination problems.
Tyatora's neighboured by jungle tribes to the north. The sea is on the east. Vervar nomads are in the south. The mighty Allvelonyan Empire is in the west, waiting to swallow up Tyatora. Fortunately for a small country like Tyatora, the Allvelonyan Empire's busy attacking other kingdoms. They aren't attacking Tyatora yet. Emphasis on yet. Tyatora's allying with the jungle people and Vervar nomads for military protection.
I'm running out of things to talk about Tyatora. I'll post on it again when I've got new ideas.
Tye-uh-Torh-uh.
Paravania was my old invention, but I'll keep my blog's name as Paravania Voice. Paravania's south of Tyatora. Paravania's a great deal bigger, and the inhabitants are different. Paravanian people are mainly animals and dinosaurs.
There are five big races that consider themsleves Tyatorans:
1. Nomadic monkeys
2.Humans
3.Sea Cats (something liked finned-lions)
4. Mermaids (and mermen)
5. Firk-notts (Oversized crosses between wallabies and weasels).
Nomadic Monkeys are the literati and philosophers of the country.
Humans. . .they're just there. I guess one could say they're mainly businessmen. They migrated from China to Tyatora, through an interplanetary portal. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that Paravania and Tyatora are on another planet, called Endramius.
Anyways, back to the point, the Sea cats are a ship-sailing race. The can swim wonderfully but just don't really like it. They prefer manning their caravels.
Merpeople don't sail. They do the swimming. I guess the have to make up for the Sea cats' lack of interest.
Firk-notts are the farmers of the country. But in the past forty years, a lot of the younger generation of Firk-notts are migrating to cities. Tyatora has some racial discrimination problems.
Tyatora's neighboured by jungle tribes to the north. The sea is on the east. Vervar nomads are in the south. The mighty Allvelonyan Empire is in the west, waiting to swallow up Tyatora. Fortunately for a small country like Tyatora, the Allvelonyan Empire's busy attacking other kingdoms. They aren't attacking Tyatora yet. Emphasis on yet. Tyatora's allying with the jungle people and Vervar nomads for military protection.
I'm running out of things to talk about Tyatora. I'll post on it again when I've got new ideas.
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